The Ties That Bind
by LadyCamille72
Summary: The events of "Broken Ties" lead Ronon and Jennifer down a path they didn't expect.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry to those of you who might've been confused when previously reading this chapter. I had forgotten I had a section of Jennifer/Ronon dialogue at the bottom that I altered and changed to the next chapter, so it seemed rather redundant, reading it here and in the next chapter.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just like to play in MGM's sandbox.

* * *

The first time it happened there was absolutely nothing intentional about it. Ronon's screams as she checked the machines monitoring his vitals were on the verge of making her physically ill. Singing softly to herself was an old habit she'd used to distract herself since she was a child. It had probably come from the shadowy memory of her mother singing to her as a child.

It was while she was psychoanalyzing herself that the sudden lack of screaming broke into her thoughts. "Ronon?" she gasped, whirling to check his pulse. It wasn't unheard of for even a strong man to have a heart attack under such intense withdrawal.

She felt a bit limp with relief when she realized his heart was as strong as it had ever been. But what had interrupted his agony enough to leave him still on the bed? Frowning, she reached out and laid her palm against his forehead. He was burning up, but that was to be expected.

"More," came a gravelly whisper from between clenched teeth.

Jennifer started, jerking her hand away. "Ronon? Can you hear me? More what?"

His back arched up off the bed, the restraints the only thing holding him in place. She could almost feel the need to scream pushing itself up his throat. It made her want to curl up in a corner and cry. That wasn't an option, though. There was something he needed, something that seemed to give him some momentary peace from the living hell he was going through. What was it?

The screams started again, harsh and grating as they echoed off the walls. At least Ronon's unarticulated shrieks were better than his clear begging for someone to kill him. She had actually had to throw up after the first hour of that nightmare. He was so strong and vital that seeing him so broken shattered her ability to distance herself as a physician. No, this was different. She was Jennifer and he was Ronon, and seeing him in pain crushed her soul a little more every day.

Racking her brain for what he wanted more of, she started singing to herself again to focus. She'd barely gotten through the first bars of an old lullaby when Ronon quieted again. Without thinking, she stopped and stared at him. Was it the singing? Could that possibly be it? So simple, so not medical, so --

He began to fight the restraints nearly as soon as she stopped.

Taking a deep breath, she sang more deliberately this time, her eyes flicking to the monitors as she wound her way through the soft stanzas of the song. By the time she'd come to the end, his heart rate and blood pressure had dropped to a level closer to healthy.

"Wow," she murmured softly. The fact that Ronon, of all people, would respond that way to music sent her mind scrambling back to poke at old memories of studies done on the tie between music and healing. She was so focused for a minute that it startled her when a choked cry escaped Ronon again.

She quickly pulled up a stool and sat next to the bed, one hand absently drifting over his forehead in a gentle caress. "You could've picked a better singer, but if that's what you want, that's what you're going to get," Jennifer said wryly. Taking a deep breath, she started the lullaby again.

* * *

Ronon's thrashing woke her, startling her enough to send her toppling off the side of the stool. In that split second of awareness she braced herself to slam into floor. Instead, she found herself pulled up by the strong arms of Colonel Sheppard.

"Oh, god. I'm sorry," she sputtered, feeling heat flush her cheeks. "I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until --"

They both flinched as Ronon jerked against the restraints, a deep, bass moan of pain escaping him.

"Don't sweat it, Doc. You've been sitting here all night. You get to be human, too."

Jennifer smiled ruefully as she absently rubbed at her burning throat. "I didn't realize it had been that long."

Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, time flies when you're having fun." He nodded over at his friend strapped to the bed. "I guess whatever you gave him wore off. But I thought you said he had to go cold turkey."

"I didn't give him anything," Jennifer replied, looking confused. Her brain still wasn't completely awake.

"But he's been quiet until a few minutes ago. Is he coming out of it already?"

Feeling a little silly at the truth of the matter, she stepped back towards Ronon and brushed her fingers over his forehead again. With her back towards Sheppard, she completely missed his wide-eyed look at the sight of her caress.

"I wish," Jennifer sighed, feeling like someone had poured acid down her throat. Who would have thought that humming and singly softly for that long could be that painful? "No, it's just ..." She glanced back over her shoulder. "He's more calm when you sing to him."

Sheppard stared at her. "You're telling me that he quit begging for us to kill him because you sang to him?"

"Well, yeah." Feeling defensive, she frowned at the Colonel. "There are studies about this, you know. Proven studies that --"

"Whoa, Doc. I'm not really questioning you. Ronon just doesn't seem like the type to, you know, be that easily soothed."

"I don't know that there's anything easy about it, but I'm willing to go with whatever helps at this point." The sudden urge to bend down and kiss away the grimace of pain on Ronon's face was nearly overwhelming. "I hate seeing him in pain."

Bent over the Satedan, she once again missed Sheppard's shocked look. Hearing him clear his throat broke her out of the moment, though.

"So, singing then? Or is it just music in general?" he asked as she stepped back.

"You know, I don't know." Feeling a little stupid at the realization that she'd spent the whole night singing to Ronon when piped in music would probably have been just as good, Jennifer blushed. "I didn't think about it. I just ..."

"Don't worry about it. You went with what worked." Sheppard smiled at her. "But listen, to be blunt, you look like hell, Doc. I think you should go get some real sleep."

Jennifer looked down at her watch and gasped. "Oh god. I have a shift starting in fifteen minutes. I need to --"

Sheppard grabbed her arm before she could work herself up any further. "No you don't. Your docs finagled the schedule. I don't think you're on again until tomorrow."

She blinked. "They what? But scheduling rotations have to be approved by --"

"Yeah. Already talked to Woolsey and he's good."

"Oh." She didn't know quite what to say. The unusual feeling of being part of a team who actually watched out and cared for each other was still too new to feel normal.

Sheppard smiled at her as if he understood. "So go on. That's an order. We'll figure out what the big guy likes. If it's the personal touch, well, I'm sure Teyla would be glad to take a shift, too. We'll get him through this."

Jennifer nodded, but shot an unconsciously longing glance at Ronon. She didn't want to leave him, but she wasn't going to do anyone any good walking around like a zombie. Besides, he wasn't her only responsibility, as much as she'd like to focus on him.

"Just call me if --"

"If anything changes," Sheppard finished. "Go get some sleep."

* * *

"Whoever you are, you'd better have food. McKay's life is on the line," Ronon growled as footsteps entered the room.

"I got your broth and jell-O right here, big guy," Sheppard's voice called out.

Ronon opened his eyes and grimaced. "You'd better be kidding or I'm going to have to kill you, too. I don't eat baby food."

Sheppard smiled and shrugged. "Nothing I can do, man. Doctor's orders."

Groaning, Ronon let his throbbing head fall back against the pillow. But the mention of the word "doctor" brought his attention back around. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Who?" Sheppard pulled a french fry out of a bag in his hands and munched thoughtfully.

"Your death is going to be long and painful," Ronon growled, inhaling the scent of potatoes and grease. And he'd bet his life there was a cheeseburger in that bag as well.

Sheppard propped his feet up on the bed. "I'll trade you a fry if you'll tell me who you're talking about."

"Jennifer, you idiot. Now gimme." He gestured at the bag imperiously.

"Jennifer, is it," Sheppard asked as he offered up the bag. "You wouldn't be talking about Dr. Keller, would you? You know, slim, blond, big blue eyes ..."

Ronon ripped into the bag and stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth while Sheppard rambled. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that the topic of Jennifer was meant to distract them both from Tyre, and he wasn't complaining. He wasn't ready to go there yet.

"Know exactly what she looks like," he mumbled around his mouthful.

John arched a brow at him. "So does this mean that you trying to go in and get her out of that Wraith stuff was more than your usual altruistic heroism?"

He snorted. "McKay wouldn't have gotten out of the lift." Ronon studied the cheeseburger. Tyre was pushing at his thoughts, but he shoved his old friend away with a mental picture of Jennifer. She'd been "Jennifer" in his mind ever since they'd been quarantined together. "Somebody had to go in and you were still out."

Of course, the fact was that he'd had a hard time looking nonchalant about the whole ordeal. He'd had to wander off to punch something when he realized they were going to leave her in the dark, wrapped up in that thing. Volunteering to go in and help hadn't required conscious thought.

"Riiiiiiight," Sheppard drawled. "Want to know what I think?"

"Not really."

"I think," John went on as if he hadn't gotten a reply, "that you've got a thing for the pretty little doc. I wouldn't have thought of her as your type, but hey, if that's what does it for you ..."

Ronon scowled. "I can still get out of this bed and kick your ass."

"You could. But that would mean somebody would have to go drag Jennifer out of bed, and the poor doctor could use her sleep after being at your beck and call the last several days."

A flicker of memory taunted Ronon and then flitted away: Jennifer, her cool touch soothing and gentle, her eyes concerned as she bent over him. And a song -- far away and lilting -- that he'd clung to when he thought he'd lose his mind if the pain didn't stop. He frowned and tried to pull the memory back, but it was too far away. "What did she ... I mean, she's okay?"

John grinned like an idiot. "Yes, lover boy, she's fine. Just tired. Well, and no voice left to speak of, you big baby. Nobody else would do."

"Now what are you talking about?" Ronon asked, the cheeseburger sitting momentarily forgotten his lap.

"You really don't remember?"

"Would I ask if I did?" The urge to punch somebody was getting stronger.

"Fair enough." Sheppard's stupid grin dropped as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You know they couldn't give you anything to help with the pain, right?

Ronon nodded shortly. The memory of that pain made the food in his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"Right. Well, turns out the doc had something else. She sang to you and it calmed you down. At least you stopped begging for us to kill you."

Heavy silence settled on the two of them as each remembered the nightmare of the long withdrawal.

"Yeah." Ronon's voice was hoarse. "Sorry about that."

Sheppard shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I probably would've been begging for the same thing." There was uncomfortable silence for a minute or two before he went on. "Anyway, we thought maybe it was just music that helped. Tried everything we could think of. Teyla even sang to you. McKay offered to try --"

"Yeah, woke up to him rattling on about something. Good thing for the restraints. I might've killed him before I had time to think about it."

John snorted. "Yeah, he has that effect on people sometimes. Anyway, nothing worked except Dr. Keller singing to you. I sent her to quarters three times before I had to have Woolsey come down in person and make it a direct order. Otherwise she'd probably still be here. She didn't seem to want to leave."

Ronon didn't comment. He was still digesting that information. Life was chaotic enough on Atlantis that other than grinning at each other at meals and a lot silent chemistry during his sessions of getting sewn up, he and Jennifer hadn't ever gotten back to that interrupted moment during the quarantine. He hadn't forgotten it, though, and he didn't think she had either, especially after hearing Sheppard talk about her.

While he thought about it, Sheppard apparently decided to change the subject. "Listen, Ronon, about what happened --"

Appetite disappearing, Ronon stuffed his half-eaten cheeseburger back in the bag. "You know, I'm kind of tired. Think I'll get some sleep while I can." He just couldn't ... no. Not yet. Without waiting for a response, he settled against the pillows and closed his eyes.

Sheppard seemed to take the hint. Ronon heard his chair scrape against the floor and a minute later, the bag of food was lifted off his lap. A second after that, a warm hand rested on his shoulder.

"Get some rest, buddy. We'll talk later."

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the lovely comments! I've had a lot of fun writing this fic, so I'm glad to know some other folks are enjoying it as well.

Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me but the fantasy. I just like to play in MGM's sandbox.

* * *

"Good evening, Dr. Keller."

Jennifer looked up from straitening her jacket and grinned ruefully at the nurse. "Don't remind me, Sarah. I feel incredibly guilty for all the shift juggling everyone did to accommodate me."

"Nobody minds, Dr. Keller. We all know you'd do the same," the nurse added with a smile. "Oh, and don't forget you have a senior staff meeting in fifteen minutes.

"Thanks for the reminder. I just want to check on a few things first." Jennifer headed for the first tablet she saw, wanting to see what else had been going on while she was caught up in treating Ronon. She inhaled sharply at one of the first listings and turned back towards Sarah, other patients and duties forgotten. "He's out of isolation? Why didn't anyone call for me?"

Sarah shrugged, her smile amused. "Maybe because Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, _and_ Mr. Woolsey all said that we couldn't."

"Oh. Well, I guess that was that, huh?" She glanced back down at the tablet, her eyes scanning notations of Ronon's vitals and other pertinent information. She felt a knot of tension in her stomach relax as it sunk in that he'd come through the withdrawal with no obvious side effects.

"Doctor Keller?" The nurse, Sarah, stopped her in her tracks as she headed toward the bay where Ronon was.

Fighting back impatience, Jennifer glanced back. "Yes?"

"He's asleep."

"Oh." Feeling ridiculously disappointed on a personal level, Jennifer turned back towards the main infirmary doors. "Guess I'll grab a cup of tea before the meeting, then. I'll be back to check on him when I'm done."

As she wandered down the corridors toward the mess hall, Jennifer couldn't help but think about her reaction to Ronon. Granted, it wasn't new by any means. She'd been hyper-aware of him since that "almost" kiss back during the quarantine. In fact, sewing him up on a regular basis had become increasingly difficult. There was just something about the big Satedan that just oozed sex.

She blushed at the thought and cleared her throat even though no one was around to see her, not to mention read her thoughts. But still, it was unsettling. She'd never reacted to someone like that before. Not so instinctively and primally. Her few physical relationships hadn't exactly been shining moments. Letting someone that close, being _intimate_ ... it wasn't something that came easily to her.

No pun intended. She snorted at her own off-color joke, then sighed. Besides, what attracted her to Ronon was way more than just the physical. He could be so gentle and so caring, and that nature seemed such a polar opposite of the brash, violent man most people saw him as. The mix compelled her completely.

Then there was the fact that he totally frustrated her focus as a physician. She couldn't distance herself from him as was necessary to her profession. With everyone else on the base -- even Teyla and Rodney and John whom she'd gotten close to -- she could put up that wall when she was being Dr. Keller instead of just Jennifer. But with Ronon, that wall was nowhere to be found. And that was dangerous.

Reaching the mess hall, she made short work of putting together a cup of tea. The room was very quiet. Not a surprise since it was going on midnight and most of the base staff had retired for the day. But then Atlantis was never completely "closed." There were always staff on duty 24/7, so it never felt totally lonely, even in the middle of the night.

Jennifer used the quiet to take a moment, considering how irritatingly fruitless it was to even consider Ronon as a man. Once they'd gotten out of the quarantine situation, one thing after another kept them all going at the speed of light, it seemed. Outside of stitching Ronon up and seeing him at group meals, they didn't really have any contact. More importantly, he hadn't sought her out.

_Well, it's not like you've gone looking for him, Jen_ she thought to herself wryly.

True, but not a surprise. She could have made up some excuse to seek him out, but her insecurities stopped her in her tracks. Ronon could probably have his pick of the women on the base if he wanted, not to mention off-world. There was no way she could muster up the courage to face the kind of horrifically embarrassing rejection of "thanks, but no thanks," that he'd likely hand her. After all, they weren't exactly well-matched. She was quiet and cautious and certainly didn't have the kind of looks to stop a guy in his tracks.

No, it was really in her best interest to get over her little fantasies about Ronon Dex and get back to being a doctor. Resigned, bur resolute, she put her rambling thoughts aside and headed back out to the corridor and the waiting staff meeting.

* * *

_Twenty-four hours later ..._

Ronon was restless. He wanted to hit something; to spar, but nobody would give him the satisfaction. They were all treating him like he was made of glass, which just irritated him more. He paced the hall with long strides. It was late -- nearly midnight -- but he had it in mind to drag Sheppard out by the scruff of his neck if necessary.

He'd been out of the infirmary since the late afternoon -- discharge by one of the nameless, faceless staff doctors -- and the restlessness had been building since. It was Tyre, of course. The sword that Sheppard had brought him was a living reminder of its bearer. It was all about Tyre. He wanted to think about him, but he couldn't. Not without completely losing it. Kind of stupid to hold in it, though, since he was going to lose it eventually. Just a matter of time. That's why he needed to take the edge off first. Maybe then he wouldn't put someone in the infirmary or put himself out of commission either.

The sight of a certain door brought him to a quick halt. Jennifer's door. Ronon glared at it as his chaotic thoughts jumped to a new track. He'd gotten the distinct feeling that she was avoiding him in the infirmary since only the generic doctors and nurses had been treating him. She'd been around -- he'd seen her flitting from place to place from a distance -- but she hadn't come to see him. She _always_ came to see him.

Without thinking about the reasons behind it or the time of night or anything else, he walked over and waved his hand in front of the sensor next to her door. No answer. Irritation building, he tripped the sensor again. A second later, the door slid open to reveal Jennifer standing there in a tank top and shorts, looking started.

"Ronon?" She glanced out in the hall, her hair swinging around her shoulders. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

He backed her into her room, scowling at her. He watched her eyes widen in shock as the door closed behind him.

"Ronon? What's going --"

"Why didn't you come to see me?" he demanded.

She blinked up at him. "Excuse me?"

He knew the red haze of fury starting to cloud his vision was completely irrational, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. "You were too disgusted by what I did, weren't you? Couldn't even bear to come over and say hello once I was coherent again, huh?" he snarled derisively.

The hint of fear in her eyes enraged him further. She had to think the worst of him if she thought he'd ever raise a hand to her. "Yeah, guess that's my answer right there."

"Ronon, wait." Her turned to storm out, but her hand on his arm stopped him. "Are you ... are you talking about what happened with the Wraith and with your friend?"

His jaw clenched hard enough that pain lanced up through the side of his head. He couldn't trust himself to answer aloud or even look at her, so he nodded curtly.

"Oh, god."

He could hear the relief in Jennifer's voice and whirled back towards her incredulously. Her eyes widened again. She shook her head and began to speak before he could. "I didn't mean that like it sounded. I was just ... I mean, you've totally got the wrong idea."

She smiled at him hesitantly.

He glared at down at her hand, still resting on his arm.

She jerked it off like she'd been burned.

"So why didn't you come see me?" he growled, unreasonably determined to get his answer.

He watched her open and close her mouth a few times, looking cornered.

"Ronon, that's ... I mean ... well, you're not my only patient, you know!"

"Never stopped you before."

She huffed and put her hands on her hips, irritation sparking in her eyes. "This is not really a conversation I want to have."

"Too bad." The red haze of his insane rage faded as he realized he was getting on her nerves. Something about that was faintly amusing. Or maybe he was just going insane. It was a toss-up. The woman just had a weird effect on him.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Jennifer sighed. He noticed that she scrunched up her nose when she was frustrated. It was cute.

He shook his head. "Unh-unh."

She stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged, her voice unnaturally sarcastic when she spoke. "Fine. It's not like I was planning on humiliating myself tonight, but then again, it's not like I have anything better to do, either."

Ronon cocked his head to the side. "I have no idea what that's supposed to mean."

Rolling her eyes, she walked a few steps away so he could only see her profile. "I ... it's hard for me to be a doctor when I'm around you. There, happy now?"

"Um ... not really. I still don't know what you're talking about."

She walked back over and reached up to put the back of her hand against his forehead. "Maybe you should still be in the infirmary. I should run a scan on your brain. Mood changes this swift aren't --"

"Jennifer." He caught hold of her wrist as he realized she was avoiding making eye contact. "Why can't you be a doctor around me?" The answer suddenly seemed vitally important as a new sort of tension sizzled in the air.

"Because," She tugged against his hold, but he refused to let her go. "Because I ... I can't make it not personal with you. I ... I ..."

He watched, fascinated, as she struggled with her words. When she spoke again, her voice was small and quiet enough that he had to strain to hear her. "I care about you to much too not make it personal. I can't be objective."

The silence stretched long enough that she finally looked up at him, defiant and guarded. "Go ahead. Now's the time when you get uncomfortable and emphasize what good _friends_ we are. Just get it over with so I can be mortified in private, okay?"

Ronon grinned. "You didn't come to see me because you like me?"

Jennifer glared at him. "Because I was trying to regain my objectivity. There are plenty of very talented medical professionals in the infirmary. There was no reason you needed me, personally, to hover over you."

"Except that I wanted you to."

That seemed to freeze her place. "Oh."

He watched the shock ripple over her face and commented on something else he'd been thinking about. "You sang to me, too."

"Um ... yeah." She blushed furiously, the color growing deeper when he didn't say anything else. "It helped, so ... I did."

"I remember." Ronon watched her eyes, cataloging her every reaction. "But it wasn't music, you know. It was you." He waited for that to sink in, then added, "Sheppard told me you tried other stuff, too."

Jennifer nodded slowly. "We did."

"It was like going insane," he said suddenly, closing his eyes at the all to vivid memory of the fiery torture that had wracked his body. "When you sang, it was like I had something to cling to. If I could focus on that, I knew I could hang on till it was over. When you were gone, I got lost in it."

When he opened his eyes, Jennifer was staring at him. "I don't know what to say."

And then, like quicksilver, without any further warning, everything shifted and the dam broke inside him. "He was my friend; my brother." Ronon heard his voice crack, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "You should have let me go insane. I killed him."

"No, you didn't, "Jennifer replied fiercely, shocking him despite the mire of grief he was drowning in. "You didn't have any control over what you were doing."

"Doesn't matter." Ronon shook his head back and forth against the flow of memories that left him gasping. "I should've _known_. They should never have been able to break me." He dropped her wrist and walked away blindly. "They should've left me there and saved him." The emotion built up until it exploded by way of a guttural roar, his fist slamming into the wall.

"Ronon, stop!" Jennifer was at his side in an instant, shoving herself into the narrow space between his body and the wall, his fist in her hands. "You're bleeding."

He glanced down at his knuckles. Like he cared. What was a little blood when Tyre was gone? Whatever else had happened before didn't matter. When it counted, Tyre had been the same friend, the same brother he'd always been. Loyal, steadfast ... And he, Ronon Dex, had murdered him.

Jennifer's hand jerking his chin down drew him out his private hell. He was dimly surprised to see the anger in her eyes. "You're not going to do this, Ronon. So help me, if I have to strap you down and scream at you until you get it, you're _not going to do this_. Do you understand me?"

He started to shake his head, to dismiss her, but her fierce glare seemed to have more control over him than his own will. "You're not Superman. You're not a god. You're a _man_, Ronon. Special, yes, but still human." Her intense brown eyes pinned him to the spot. He couldn't have left if he'd wanted to.

"Do you really think it honors your friend to beat yourself up over his sacrifice? From what you've said, that's not what your people were all about. They honored sacrifice. This," Jennifer lifted his fist so his bloody knuckles were in view once again, "isn't honor. This is ripping up the man that Tyre gave his life to save." The intensity in her eyes pierced him once more. "Or did I get the wrong idea about what Sateda was all about? Are you more about wallowing in your grief than honoring your heros? Is that who you are, Ronon?"

Fury swept through him, past red and into white hot, blazing like a thousand suns. If she'd been a man, he might have committed murder. But as it was, he stood there, frozen in place as his body shook with grief and rage and pain and loss. The fire burned hotter than even the torture of his withdrawal; it consumed him inside and out, a furnace burning out of control. There was no end and no beginning, just unending pain.

And then two small arms wrapped around his waist and held him tight. "Let it out," she whispered against his heart. "It's eating you up inside, Ronon. Just let it out."

Just words, spoken in a quiet voice, from a small woman that he could snap in two without breaking a sweat. And yet those words seemed to shut down the furnace and bring on a cold wave of grief that he couldn't run from any longer.

Mindless, Ronon dropped to his knees with a howl of pain. She followed, her arms tightening further around him, the only thing keeping him anchored in the storm. Tyre was the catalyst, but the grief was for all that he'd lost: Rakai and Ara, other long-lost friends, his family, Melena, Sateda itself. Always before, he'd used anger, aggression, and vengeance to leech away the pain, but in Jennifer's arms, it seemed to flow through him as he'd never allowed since everything he'd ever known was destroyed.

It could have been minutes or hours when he was finally spent. Ronon had no idea. What he did know was that Jennifer was still holding on to him, rocking him gently, her own tears soaking his tunic. Part of him wondered at the fact that he wasn't incredibly uncomfortable, having just broken down in front of her, but a larger part of him just accepted it as being as natural as breathing.

He lifted a hand to cup her chin, gently tilting her head back so that he could see her face. The stain of tears on her cheeks awed him. Without even asking, he knew that she had grieved with him, taking his pain into herself. It meant more than anything anyone had ever said to him in sympathy, more than any look of uncomfortable pity, and there had been millions of both.

"How did you get so wise?" he asked, his voice gravelly in the aftermath of the storm.

Her rueful laugh ended with a wavering hiccup. "I'm not even close to wise. I just hate seeing you in pain."

Ronon searched her eyes, not sure what he was looking for. He'd once told Jennifer that she reminded him of Melena, but even this was beyond what they'd experienced together. Of course, Melena had never had to see him through anything like what had just happened. Maybe both women shared traits, but he was sure in that moment that Jennifer had her own place in his heart that had nothing to do with replacing an old love.

She caught her lower lip in her teeth, looking at him uncertainly. "What are you thinking?"

He smiled faintly and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Wondering if this is all ... true."

"All what?"

"This. You, me, here ..."

"Oh."

Ronon watched as she took a deep breath, a familiar look creeping across her face: she was scared silly, but making a conscious choice to be brave. That was one of the things that drew him to her. She thought she was a coward, but nothing was further from the truth.

"I ... I'm not ... not very good at this," she stammered, looking away.

He snorted. "Not from where I'm sitting." To his surprise, he realized she was trembling. Lifting her chin again, he forced her to meet his eyes. "What is "this," Jennifer?"

She was silent long enough that he felt a surprising kick of nerves in his stomach. "Is all this you just being a good doctor because you felt bad for ditching me earlier?"

"No," she gasped, looking shocked that he'd even suggested it.

Ronon searched her eyes again. He needed to be sure. "You telling me the truth?"

She was still wrapped around him tightly enough that he could feel her heart pound. This time she didn't hesitate. It was like he could feel her give in and drop her walls, however much it terrified her.

"I would never lie to you, Ronon. Lies hurt too much; waste too much of this life. And I've figured out that this life can be way too short to waste time."

Her voice, quiet and sincere, and her eyes, vulnerable and trusting, sealed the deal for him. As if there were really any question at that point. There was nothing casual between them anymore; nothing that made them wonder about what could be. There was only the bond that had snapped into place, living and vibrant and stronger than Ronon could have dreamed was possible.

And so he stopped thinking, stopped wondering, stopped dreaming. He just did what came naturally, and kissed her as if his life depended on it.

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry about any confusion with the first chapter. Turns out I had a bit of a scene I'd written out of sequence that ended up tacked on. Then I rewrote that scene and it became part of Chapter 2. Oops! Anyway, it's fixed now. And thank you for all the lovely reviews! I've had tons of fun writing this and I'm glad others are enjoying it, too.

* * *

Jennifer was lost and she was pretty sure she didn't want to be found. Ever. The look in Ronon's eyes as he leaned towards her made her feel like the most beautiful, most cherished, luckiest woman in at least two galaxies. And that was all before his lips met hers.

Everything else just ceased to exist once they connected. It was simply Ronon, Jennifer and the incredible need that stole her breath as surely as his soft lips moving over hers. Not just a physical need, either, but something so much bigger than she was prepared for. She wanted to love him and protect him and fight with him and laugh with him and so, so much more.

The gentleness of the kiss left her utterly defenseless. She'd braced herself for something totally different, as brash and no-nonsense as the man himself, but the way he was taking nothing for granted, asking silent questions and waiting for her to respond stunned her. Letting go and melting against him wasn't a conscious thought. It was just _right._

Clearly understanding her silent surrender, Ronon deepened the kiss, one of his hands sliding into her hair as his tongue carefully slid into her mouth. Her potential for complete abandon in his arms surprised her, but the thought was faint, chased away as she lost herself in the taste of him. The flavor was as unique as the man himself: a hint of musk, leather, a fleeting sharp tang of the alien metal of his weapon drifting from scent into sensation on her tongue.

She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, molding herself against his chest. The warm ache low in her stomach demanded she be as close as possible, and almost sentient itself, cursed the clothing in place that kept them from being skin to skin, one and complete. Conscious thought was a thing that existed in her murky past, and without it, shifting herself to be in Ronon's lap, her body pressed against his and her ankles locked at the small of his back was no difficult feat.

Ronon groaned, his mouth moving to her jaw and to the side of her neck, teeth carefully grazing the delicate skin there. Jennifer shuddered and rocked her hips forward, shuddering as the feel of his erection against her sent a new wave of heat flaming through her body.

He growled low in his throat, his long, strong fingers moving down her sides to grasp her hips. A breathless moan forced its way up and out of her as he pulled her even more tightly against him, thrusting forward, the friction teasing her, making it clear that what she really wanted was to feel him moving inside her. The feeling was so completely alien and so completely right at the same time.

She was so caught up in the moment that the sudden loss of contact left her confused and shivering. Shivering because the room was cool compared to the heat of Ronon's body and confused because he'd put a few feet between them and was watching her warily.

The shocked silence -- at least on Jennifer's part -- lasted long enough for coherence and reality to set in. She felt the blood drain from her face as she realized what she'd just done. He'd kissed her, yes, but she'd thrown herself at him in the most appalling way. God, she'd been rubbing up against him like a cat in heat, ready to scream because he wasn't naked yet.

Feeling horribly exposed, she pulled her knees up against her chest as she fought the urge to cry. Keeping the tears at bay was literally painful, her throat throbbing at the effort. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She'd known this was going to happen. God knew she'd lived it before. And now here she was, ripped up and mortified and she'd done it to herself.

If there was a God, Ronon would just walk out and not make her say anything. That would be easier for both of them. Words were just disguised razors when they were spoken under circumstances like the current ones. But either God wasn't listening or didn't care, because Ronon was still standing there staring at her, his expression unreadable.

Finally, because she had to do something, she looked away and found her voice. "I ... I'm sorry."

* * *

Ronon stared at Jennifer as his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest. Never in a million years would he have thought that she would respond the way that she had. He'd expected her to be tentative and unsure, not sliding into his lap and rubbing against him in a way that had him ready to flip her over and bury himself inside her between one breath and the next.

Oh, the urge was definitely still there, but he wasn't going to give in to it. Jennifer wasn't just some random woman he took to bed for a laugh and a bit of naked fun. No. He'd known that from the first time he'd almost kissed her in the infirmary. And maybe that's why, despite the excuses he'd given himself about being busy, he hadn't really pursued her since. Somewhere deep down, he knew that if he let it happen, he'd be tied to her so deeply he'd never get untangled.

Ronon wasn't much for self-examination, but he knew he was already lost. The way she'd laughed with him, stood steadfast while he raged, cried with him as he grieved, comforted him with her touch ... it unlocked a deep-seated need that he thought had died a very long time ago. Even Melena hadn't met him in the same way. When his emotions had boiled over, whatever they might have been, more often than not she'd thrown up her hands and given him some space. Not Jennifer. She met him toe to toe, even when he scared her.

Gods help him, he loved her. Was iin/I love with her. And that's why he'd pushed her away. If -- _when_ he made love to her, he didn't want her to have any doubts about it being something that just happened because emotions were running high; just sex. He knew her too well. His Jennifer would doubt and agonize and be afraid to assume anything but the worst.

Her words startled him out of his thoughts. He focused on her, his heart squeezing painfully at the look on her face. She was pale and pulled into such a tight little ball that he wondered how she could breath at all, her eyes focused on a spot on the floor. And if he wasn't mistaken, she was trembling as well.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked more gruffly than he meant to. The desire to reach out for her, to touch and taste every inch of her body was so strong that he clenched his fists at his sides.

She wouldn't look at him. "It's okay, Ronon." Her voice sounded incredibly weary and the tiniest bit shaky. "We can just pretend this didn't happen. No harm, no foul, right?"

"What the hell does that mean?" He nearly flinched as the question came out as a demanding roar.

Jennifer did flinch. She still wouldn't look at him, though. "I understand that sometimes ... things happen that people don't mean. We're adults, though. It doesn't have to be a big deal if we don't make it one."

The truth of the matter hit him like a thunderclap. Wasn't he just thinking about how she assumed the worst? He was an idiot. He'd leave the noble bullshit to Sheppard from now on. In one long step he was close enough to lean down and grasp Jennifer's upper arms, pulling her to her feet and against his chest. "You think I stopped because this was a mistake?" he asked incredulously.

She stared at him with wide eyes. Her nervous swallow was audible. "I ... you ... well, didn't you?"

Ronon closed his eyes for a second and prayed for patience. Being painfully aroused and having a coherent conversation at the same time -- without yelling -- wasn't something he was very good at. "For somebody so smart, you can be awfully stupid," he muttered.

Jennifer's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?"

"You heard what I said," he retorted sharply. "I stopped because in about ten seconds I would have had you naked and under me right there on the floor and that's not how I want this to go.

If the situation were different, Ronon might have laughed at the look of confusion on her face. He watched as she tried to make sense of his words, then had to grit his teeth as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. In that second he was jealous of her lips. There were so many other places he'd rather see that small, pink tongue, all of them located on his bare skin.

"Jennifer," he groaned helplessly.

She blinked at him. "Wha -- what did I do?"

"You really don't have a clue, do you?"

A hint of irritation joined the thinly veiled hurt in her eyes that had appeared when she thought he was rejecting her. "Ronon, stop talking in circles!"

Completely unable to help himself, he jerked her against him and kissed her fiercely, all the gentleness of that first kiss burned away to leave an embrace that was pure, unadulterated need. A second before he totally lost his grip on sanity, he pushed her away again, but this time kept a grip on her arms. "God, you're killing me."

"But _you_ keep kissing _me_," she cried, clearly baffled. "I thought you didn't want --"

"You think too much," he muttered, then closed his eyes again and forced himself to take a deep a breath. The words he needed to say were harder than he realized. He was out of his element. With Melena, he hadn't had to explain. They'd grown up together; they knew each other inside and out. And Melena was different from Jennifer in that she'd had a healthy sense of self, both in every day life and in her sexuality. She knew without ever asking that she wasn't just a physical means to an end with him.

When he opened his eyes, Jennifer was watching him solemnly. "I don't understand what you want, Ronon."

"I know," he sighed, forcing back his raging desire for her in favor of gently pulling her close, tucking her head under his chin. She came willingly enough, but he still felt the tension in her. She was so ready to be rejected.

"Jennifer, this ... I ..." He stopped, frowned and started again. He didn't have flowery words or smooth moves like Sheppard. He needed to just say it plainly. "I want you so bad it hurts. I just want to do it right, and going at it on the floor didn't seem ... right."

She went rigid in his arms. He waited, trying his damndest to be patient. A minute later her shoulders slumped and she pushed away from him. She met his eyes for just a second before her gaze skittered away. "I ... I don't know if that's a good idea. I'm not very ... good at this."

"Haven't we already had this conversation?" he asked, trying not to sigh. He could already feel the gods or the cosmos or whatever laughing at him, knowing this woman was going to teach him some patience whether he liked it or not. That was probably fair since he'd probably irritate the hell out of her sometimes, too.

She gave him a pleading look, like he was supposed to figure it out all on his own. Since she wasn't in his arms anymore, he crossed them over his chest and just arched a brow at her.

Defeat wilted her again. "Ronon, I'm not ... god, this is hard." She took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. "Being intimate. Sex. I'm not good at it."

He couldn't help it. He snorted with laughter.

Jennifer glared.

"Sorry," he chuckled. It was when he realized that her eyes were swimming with tears that it hit him that she really believed that. "You want to explain that to me?"

"Not really," she said in a strained voice.

"Jennifer." Ronon reached out and gently gripped her chin, forcing to her look at him. "Tell me."

She shrugged away. "There's nothing to tell. I'm just not good at that sort of thing."

"Give me his name. He'll be dead in two days."

Jennifer whirled around. "What?"

"The bastard who told you you were no good in bed." He was surprised how cold his fury was at the faceless man who'd evidently scarred her so badly. "I'm going to kill him."

"Why? Because he told the truth?"

"Jen, any man who tells a woman she's bad at sex is only doing it to cover up the fact that he doesn't have a fucking clue what he's doing," he sighed.

Her eyes popped wide again. Ronon wasn't sure if it was at the language or the comment itself. He reached out twined her fingers between his. "So why do _you_ think he said it?"

Her pale cheeks were suddenly rosy with obvious embarrassment. The desire to kill the stupid bastard got even stronger. "Jen?" He could feel the internal battle she was fighting, not wanting to tell him, but probably figuring out that he wasn't going to let it go. "There's nothing you can't tell me. You know, that, right?

"It's just really embarrassing," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Ronon squeezed her hand, but otherwise waited. He was starting to figure out that just shutting up and letting her stew got him the answers he wanted.

She sighed heavily. "He said there something wrong with me because I couldn't ... I couldn't ... I mean ..."

"Because you couldn't come?" he supplied helpfully.

Jennifer's face flamed even more brightly red as she nodded silently.

Well, that explained a lot, but he was still curious. "With him or anybody?"

"Anybody. Not that there's exactly been a lot of anybodies," she mumbled. "But I'm not completely clueless, either. I mean, I'm a grown woman, Ronon. I have a vibrator and I know how to use it."

He was torn between laughter at her embarrassed but defiant comment and a white-hot shot of lust straight to the pit of his gut at the idea of Jennifer, alone, touching -- He had to stop that thought right there, otherwise he'd never focus. He cleared his throat. "How many, exactly?"

"Um ... three."

Ronon stared at her. How was that even possible? Were men on Earth blind or just stupid? He shook his head. Both, he figured. And dead if he ever got a name. Stupid bastards had made her feel like less because they didn't know what to do with her. The understanding made him grit his teeth.

"What about you?"

Jennifer's question brought him right back to the present, and his mouth kicked in before his brain. "I don't think I can count that high."

"Oh."

He could've shot himself. That was a really, really stupid answer. Talk about stupid bastards. He used their still-entwined fingers to pull her back to him. She resisted a little, but he tugged hard enough to pull her off balance. "Jennifer, there's only been one who mattered, though, and you know about her."

She nodded. "Melena."

"Yeah." Funny, but it didn't hurt to hear her name anymore; not like it had for such a long time.

"What about the others?"

Feeling a bit suddenly and unexpectedly ashamed of himself, Ronon shrugged. "It was like going out and shooting something. It was fun and took the edge off. That's it."

Jennifer sighed softly. "I ... I can't ... I'm sorry, Ronon, but I can't be casual like that. I just ... I can't. Too much of me gets tied up in being that intimate." She focused on some point just over his shoulder. "I don't want anything you don't want to give, but I can't --"

"Never said that's what I wanted," he pointed out irritably. "But if that's what you assumed, I guess you don't think very much of me, huh?"

"No!" She sounded shocked. "That wasn't it at all. It's me. I told you I'm not good at this." Her voice got higher as the words tumbled out. "I mean, look at just tonight. We could've had a perfectly nice time doing ... having ... being together, but instead, I end up talking about my abysmal sexual history and intimacy issues."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with not wanting to be just a quick fuck."

She flinched at the crudity. Ronon almost grinned. That's exactly why he'd said it that way.

"But why?" she asked wearily. "What do you possibly see in me that makes you want more than ..." She hesitated, then threw his own words back at him, a twist of sarcasm in her tone. " ... a quick fuck?"

He did grin, then. The word just sounded so wrong rolling off her tongue, but it was one more example of how, even in her insecurities, she stood toe to toe with him. He'd about had his fill of talking in circles, though.

"Oh, I can tell you, but the thing is, Jen, you're stubborn as hell. You're not going to believe it unless you see it, so I'm going to have to show you. That's going to take time, though. Fine by me." He backed her up against the wall as he talked. "The thing is, I want you. Want you like I haven't wanted anybody before, I think. And I'm not just talking about sex, although I want that too. Lots of it."

He braced his arms on either side of her shoulders, caging her in. "The rest is up to you. We can start this off fast or slow. Your call." He didn't mention that if she picked the slow road, she'd probably end up treating him for hypothermia from all the cold showers he'd have to take. The point was that as hard as it might be for him to do it, he had to let her take the lead. He was fairly certain that hat was the only way she'd truly believe in his feelings for her.

"So, Doc, what's it going to be?"

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This fic has floated out there unended in such an unexcusable way. My apologies to those who reviewed, enjoyed and begged for the ending. I was cleaning up an old hard drive this weekend and found it. Despite the very, very, VERY long wait, if anyone is still following, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_So, Doc, what's it going to be?_

Jennifer stared up at Ronon, vaguely wondering if her mouth was hanging open in shock. How was she supposed to think with him looming over her? She could feel the heat coming off his body, was surrounded by his unique sent, and he was looking at her with that little half grin that made her knees feel like noodles.

iPull it together, Jennifer,/I she told herself. For God's sake, if she was capable of being the chief medical officer in a top secret, incredibly dangerous outpost in another galaxy, she ought to be able to deal with one man and one question with out looking like a jibbering idiot.

"What --" She had to stop and take a deep breath to steady herself. "What happens if I say "slow"?" she asked cautiously.

Ronon grinned wryly. "Then I go take a really cold shower and you have dinner with me tomorrow night."

Jennifer stared at him again. "It's that easy?"

"No. It's pretty damn hard, actually," Ronon drawled, then glanced down.

Curious, she looked down too, and quickly realized Ronon was being literal. The evidence of his ... attraction was outlined clearly against his leather trousers.

"Oh." She felt herself flush ten shades of red.

Ronon chuckled. "That's really cute, the way you get flustered so easily."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. He got way too much enjoyment out of her awkwardness. "It's not cute. It's annoying," she muttered.

He shrugged. "Quit stalling, Jen."

"I'm not," she insisted. "It's just ... are you sure this --" To her acute embarrassment, her eyes automatically glanced down again. "-- isn't just because of ... uhm ... the moment?"

"Pretty sure, yeah, since I have this problem every time you touch me," Ronon replied in a husky voice that made her uncomfortably warm.

"What have I touched you? I mean, outside of sewing you up once or twice a week."

"Exactly."

Jennifer closed her mouth so quickly her teeth audibly clicked. "You mean, when I'm treating you, you ..."

He grinned wolfishly at her. "I have a lot of fantasies about playing Doctor with you, Dr. Keller."

"Oh." The word came out in a squeak. Imagination in overdrive, it took her a minute to put her next question together with any semblance of coherence. "And if I say ... fast?

Ronon leaned in until he almost touching her. She could feel the warmth of his breath caress her ear as he answered. "Then things are about to get really interesting."

_Oh god, oh god, oh god ..._

But what if "fast" or "slow" was a really bad idea? They were so different. And what if it ended up messy and heartbreaking? They worked together. And what if it did work? What if she ended up assigned someplace else? A cross-country long distance relationship was one thing, but cross-galaxy? And someday she might like to get married, have kids, a dog, maybe a Volvo. She couldn't imagine Ronon enjoying that scenario. What if --

_Get a grip, Jen. Maybe it's time to let go of the "what ifs." Besides, you didn't nearly give yourself an ulcer over almost kissing him in the infirmary that time, did you?_

But that was different. Wasn't it? Caught up in the moment, adrenalin ... Normally she was cautious by nature. Well, with the exception of when she'd gotten good and trashed on occasion in college just to prove she was human. A few shots in her and all that caution disappeared like morning mist. But this wasn't adrenalin and it wasn't alcohol. It was real. Ronon was hovering over her and he seemed to truly want her, although she still couldn't imagine --

_But aren't you the woman who jumped at the chance to work on Atlantis for god's sake? Despite the huge risks? It doesn't get much more less cautious than that, Keller. So stop what-iffing yourself to death and take the plunge._

A sudden flash of memory surprised her: She could see herself telling Ronon about all she'd missed growing up. But maybe ... maybe she hadn't missed it so much as let her fears hold her back. How much more was she willing to miss?

"You're right. I think too much," she sighed aloud.

Ronon didn't reply, just kept watching her.

"Oh hell," Jennifer muttered under her breath. She'd been hoping he'd take the lead again, make it easier, but he wasn't kidding about it being up to her. Remembering just how easily she'd lost herself with him only a little while ago, she let go of the doubts and questions and caution and grabbed handfuls of his shirt.

Ronon's look of surprise made her grin. She tugged hard and plastered herself up against him. "Fast."

* * *

Standing there while Jennifer got lost in her thoughts was enough to make the muscle in Ronon's jaw twitch. The whole patience thing was going to be a real bitch. He was fighting back a sigh when she started babbling about something. Before he could figure it out though, she was pressed up against him, a wicked little grin curving her lips.

"Fast."

He blinked. That was not the answer he'd been expecting. Of course, his hands obviously had been expecting a different answer, because he was suddenly cupping the curve of her ass and pushing her against the wall so he could rock his hips against hers. He groaned as rational thought abruptly decided to take a southern vacation.

"Jen ..."

"Hmm?" She didn't really answer, apparently too busy kipping her way up his jaw -- which he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about -- but still, her sudden turn-around unnerved him just a little bit.

"Jen, you sure --"

His eyes nearly crossed when she pulled her legs up and wrapped him around his hips again. See, that was the move that got him the first time. She was so damn flexible he could imagine all sorts of --

"Remember how you said I think too much?" she asked him, reaching down and pulling his tunic up.

Ronon wasn't sure he remembered his own name with her hands on the bare skin of his stomach, but he'd go with it. "Uh-huh."

"I quit."

"Oh." That was the best he could do, especially since she was wedged tightly enough between him and the wall that her hands were free to get him out of his tunic. Later, when his brain moved north again, he'd wonder how she did that so easily. He'd wonder a lot of things later, actually. But for the present, with her hands all over him and that sweet little mouth closing over his, thinking was done.

He growled low in his throat and opened up the kiss, wanting to taste her, to consume her, have her right there against the wall. And the fact that there was no more hesitance on Jen's part just aroused him more.

Never breaking contact, he wrapped his arms around her as he backed away from the wall, blindly aiming for the bed. It hit the back of his knees and he dropped down, pulling away from the kiss so he could jerk her top over her head in one swift movement. He wasn't much for religion, but the realization that Jennifer wasn't wearing anything under the top made him consider a prayer of thanksgiving.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed, just looking at her for a minute. Of course, looking couldn't compare to touching and somebody would've had to shoot him in the head to keep him from touching her right that second.

She shivered as he explored her delicate skin, the hint of insecurity that had been in her eyes while he looked at her disappearing at his touch. And touching her was something that he was going to be doing a lot of. She wasn't like the women he'd normally been with. He was generally attracted to women with big ... personalities. Lush curves, lots of experience, and no being shy about it. Jennifer was almost delicate: slim and pale, nothing overstated about her, but absolutely perfect as she was.

She whimpered softly as his mouth took the place of his hands, her own on his shoulders, holding onto him tightly enough to dig her nails into his skin. Looked like his sweet little doctor was going to mark him up. He wasn't going to complain at all.

With one swift move, he rolled them over so that she was on her back. For a second she looked surprised, then relaxed. "Hi," she said shyly.

Ronon grinned and kissed her again before pulling back. "You okay?" It felt weird. He wasn't sure he'd ever stopped long enough to even wonder something like that with his other partners, much less actually ask.

"Mmmhmm," Jennifer murmured. "Although ..."

Her fingers were drifting back and forth over his stomach. He was already painfully hard and that little movement was almost torture. "Although?" he echoed faintly, closing his eyes and willing her hand to drift further.

"Yeah." One fingertip slipped below the waist of his pants. A fraction of an inch more and ... Ronon bit back a groan when she pulled back and wondered how she'd turned the tables on him so fast. Every time he thought he had figured out what she was going to do, she --

"Although, I think ..." His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as she fumbled with his trousers. "Turn about's fair play." Then with only a hint of hesitance, slid her hand down until she could wrap her fingers around him.

"Jen," he growled, breathless, as he thrust against her touch. Her fingers tightened around him and he shuddered. Some dim part of Ronon's brain told him that he had to get control again, otherwise he was going to lose it fast enough to embarrass himself.

The effort nearly killed him, but he reached down and gently grasped her wrist. "Hang on."

She froze. "Ronon?"

He fought the urge to whimper like an idiot and kissed her instead. "It's going to be over before it starts if you keep that up," he finally pulled away to explain.

"Oh." Jennifer relaxed against him and actually grinned. "Well, if that's all ..." She squeezed her fingers and ran her thumb over the sensitive head of his erection.

Lighting fast he had both her wrists pinned over her head. "You're a dangerous woman, Keller," he groaned.

She laughed.

He glared.

She arched her neck up to kiss him. "I just want to --"

"I know what you want," he said, nipping at her jaw. "But I'm going to get what I want first."

"What's that," she asked breathlessly.

Ronon smirked at her, shifted his grip so that one hand held her wrists in place, then teased his fingers over her stomach like she'd done to him. Her muscles jumped and quivered under pale, delicate skin.

"Ronon, I --"

"Shut up," he murmured, capturing her gaze as he made quick work of her shorts and panties.

"But Ronon --"

He felt her tense up and knew without a doubt where her mind was going. "Hush," he told her again, never looking away from those big brown eyes as his fingers slid through soft curls and encountered damp heat.

"I --"

He shut her up by kissing her, his tongue invading her mouth even as his fingers found just the right spot and started a gentle rhythm. The really, really tiny part of his brain still in his head pointed out that he should probably get a medal for his restraint. She was hot and slick and her hips pushed against his hand and oh hell, he wanted to replace his hand with something else. He couldn't yet, though. She was still tense, like she was fighting it.

"Jen," he murmured against her lips. "Just let go."

She caught her lower lip in her teeth and shook her head. "I -- I don't -- I don't think I can," she panted softly, a sharp note of desperation in her voice.

Ronon let go of her wrists and stroked her cheek with his free hand. "You don't have to hold back with me. I'm not going to hurt you."

He heard a muffled "I know" as she wound her arms around him, burying her face against the side of his neck. Her entire body was trembling, but he was fairly sure the tension that strung her so tightly had changed. He tested it by increasing the pressure and rhythm of his touch against her until her sexy little moans and gasps had nearly killed him.

"Ronon," she finally cried out, her body tightening like a bow string as it happened. He gave her a minute to get lost in the moment, then moved faster than he ever had in his life, losing his boots and trousers in one heartbeat and sliding inside her with the next.

He cursed in Satedan at the incredible feel of her, hot and slick and tight around him. He stayed there for a second, struggling for some measure of control, but Jennifer chose that moment to hook her knee over his hip and pull him deeper inside her, and that broke him.

Truth was he'd wanted their first time to be slow and easy, but he was past anything but hard and fast. The sane bit of him thought about regretting it later, but then Jen was meeting his hips thrust for thrust and panting and literally begging for more and he was nothing if not accommodating. And the thing was, he could have gone on for longer, but she shocked him by arching up and coming again, and as she did, the woman bit him on the shoulder. Bit him. Jennifer. Bit him. The flash of mingled pain and pleasure shoved him right over the edge into a white-hot storm that felt so good it probably should've killed him.

When he could breathe and see and move and again, Ronon wrapped his arms around her and rolled to the side with a groan. "Wow," he managed weakly.

She stretched, one knee sliding up his thigh.

He groaned.

Jennifer chuckled softly. "Seriously? I'd think you wouldn't be able to feel anything below the waist after that."

Ronon turned his head with effort and shot her what he hoped was a glare, but it probably just came off sleepy.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll demonstrate."He closed his eyes for a minute before he remembered something and looked at her. "Besides, look who's talking."

She blushed furiously and stared intently at a spot just under his right rib for a minute. "That was ... Ronon, I ..."

He was smirking at her when she looked at him again.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know if there's going to be enough room in here for you, me and your ego if I tell you how amazing that was."

"We'll just get a bigger room," he said, closing his eyes and grinning.

Jennifer got very still beside him. "We?" she asked carefully.

He laid there for a minute, then opened his eyes yet again to glance at her. "Just a thought." He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. They'd end up in each other's beds every night anyway. And even though he wasn't ready to talk about feelings, the fact was that he didn't like the idea of having separate spaces. "But if don't want --"

"No! I just ..." She moved and draped herself over his chest. "I thought you might think it was too much too soon."

He arched a brow at her.

She smiled in response.

As the quiet settled between them, easy and comfortable, Ronon smiled and closed his eyes while he stroked Jennifer's hair with one hand. Even though he'd found a place and friends and a cause in Atlantis, he'd finally just found his way home.


	5. Epilogue

"I still don't understand why I have to be here, too," Rodney muttered as he walked down the corridor next to John. "He's probably just off pounding something. Other than me, which I find to be a very, very good thing."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, McKay. Ronon's never laid a hand on you."

"Well, his first waking thought was to threaten me!"

"Oh quit being such a baby. He threatens me all the time."

"Yes! And he quite frequently leaves you bruised and limping. See, you made my point for me," Rodney said, nodding as if they were in complete accord.

John came to a complete stop. "Listen, if you don't consider Ronon a friend, then just head back to your room. I'll take care of this myself."

McKay's shoulder's hunched. "I didn't say that." He sulked for a minute, then jogged after Sheppard, who'd moved on again. "I just don't understand why we just have the city look and tell us where he is."

"Because," John sighed, looking like a man who explained something to a small child several times with no success, "if we do that, Woolsey will see it sooner or later. You know he looks at all the logs. And I don't want him asking tricky questions. He's already going to be suspicious enough of Ronon as it is, what with him being under Wraith control and all. If I have to tell him that I was worried about him, how's that going to work, do you think?"

Rodney shoved his hands in his pockets. "Oh. Yeah. Well, I guess you've got a point."

"Exactly." Sheppard nodded and gestured toward the door. "That's also why we're going to be so rude as to wake up Dr. Keller, too. If I tagged her on her comm --"

"Yes, yes. I get it," Rodney sighed, then frowned at the doors in front of them. "If she's naked this is all your fault."

"Geez, McKay. Most people don't roll out of bed and answer the door with no clothes on, especially on a base like this, so I think your virgin eyes are safe." John paused and smirked. "Unless you're just hoping to get an eyeful, that is."

Rodney scowled. "Just ..." He gestured at the sensor panel irritably.

Sheppard smirked. There was no answer, so he waited a minute then called out. "Hey Doc, sorry to bother you, but I need to ask --"

The door whooshed open to reveal Jennifer standing there wrapped in a girly robe sort of thing looking rumpled and sleepy. "John? Rodney? What's wrong? Is my comm not work--"

"No, no. Nothing like that," Rodney interjected with a big smile. "We're just worried about Ronon, but we didn't want Woolsey knowing and he's not in any of his usual haunts, so we thought you might --"

Sheppard rolled his eyes at McKay again and interrupted. "Ronon was pretty upset earlier, so I figured I'd, you know, check on him, but I can't find him anywhere."

Jennifer was staring at them with a strange look. "And you thought you'd find him here?"

"Oh, no," McKay supplied. "We just thought you might be able to tell us --"

"Tell you what?" Ronon asked, appearing behind Keller with only a sheet wrapped around his hips.

John and Rodney gaped.

Ronon grinned.

Jennifer blushed.

Sheppard finally broke the silence. "Okay then. I think we can all ... yeah." He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Rodney continued to stare open-mouthed until something caught his attention. "What is that on your shoulder?" he asked the big Satedan. Then his eyes widened further. "Is that a ... did somebody bite you?"

Ronon seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He grinned and glanced at Jennifer. "Yep."

She refused to look at him.

Without another word, John dragged Rodney down the hall, the usually abrasive scientist looking more like a gasping fish than a well-known genius as his mouth opened and closed with nothing coming out.

Later, they'd all fondly remember how quiet he was for the next day or so.


End file.
